


To Belong

by parrishthethought



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Emotional Manipulation, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Impromptu Naptimes, M/M, Set Sometime Around Season One, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-06
Updated: 2016-05-06
Packaged: 2018-06-06 15:50:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6760246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/parrishthethought/pseuds/parrishthethought
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hannibal likes to have everything in its proper place, and Will is no exception.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Belong

“Dear boy,” Hannibal whispered, brushing the curls away from Will’s forehead, “What a wonder you are.” His not-quite patient was fast asleep on the couch, his chest softly rising and falling with each breath. Will’s coat was being used as a blanket, wrinkled where he gripped it, and ultimately doing a poor job of providing warmth. Hannibal took it away and went to hang it up in the closet. When he returned, it was with a cozy, plush thing in hunter green, decorative gold threading adorning its edges. To Hannibal, it appeared very much a mix of both of their styles, and he hoped Will would appreciate its presence when he woke up. He draped it over Will’s body and flicked off the living room lights. 

It wasn’t the dead who’d exhausted the agent this time, but the living. Will had been at work in Quantico when he’d received the call that Abigail Hobbs had disappeared from the Port Haven facility. He’d stopped the lecture right there, stammered out an excuse for his departure and a pointless assignment for his students to complete, grabbed his bag and rushed out of the room. The only thought running through him had been _‘She needs someone,’_ followed immediately by, _‘I have to be that someone.’_ He’d taken everything from her, he couldn’t leave her with nothing in return. 

Of course, in his hurry to get to her, he’d left his phone behind on his desk.

An observant and good-natured student had noticed and taken it upon herself to make sure it didn’t get stolen, but that didn’t help Will while he was speeding down the highway. Could Abigail be planning to go back to Minnesota on her own, he’d wondered? Or had somebody gotten to her? She had no shortage of enemies in the world now, thanks to the rumors being spread about her involvement with her father’s crimes. Will had always been great at imagining worst case scenarios. Once his mind had wandered into that territory, he couldn’t make it come back.

Nobody had been able to reach him for over an hour. Neither Hannibal, Alana, or Jack could call to tell him that Abigail had been found, that she was safely sitting in front of them. Will just kept driving, all the way to Port Haven, and by the time he’d arrived there he’d been so upset that they seriously considered admitting him. Hannibal had been called and between them they sorted out what had happened. He’d insisted on coming to pick Will up, since he was to bring Abigail back anyway. Will accepted. 

He wasn’t so distressed by the time he saw Hannibal’s Bentley pulling into the parking lot, but he was still jittery, pacing in front of the entrance while he ignored the doctor standing outside to wait with him. Will only stopped moving when Hannibal and Abigail got out of the car, only when he could confirm with his own eyes that she was alright.

Abigail’s stare back at him was a little wary, a little confused. She didn’t seem to know how to handle the aftermath of Will’s panic. She certainly didn’t understand it. Hannibal, fortunately, seemed to know exactly what to do. He’d guided her to the building and called calmly, “Will, please come here.” 

Will had hesitated and then moved to join them. “Abigail…” 

Hannibal gestured to the girl in question. “As you can see, she is quite alright. She was seeking out a bus stop-” Will caught a glance between the two of them and suspected he wasn’t being told the whole truth, “-but we have talked at length about why leaving this facility at this time and without permission is a bad idea.” 

“Of course it was. Why would you leave like that without talking to one of us?” Will pleaded, and it was when he saw the guilty look on her face and heard the sigh from Hannibal that he knew what they were hiding. “You… Oh.” She had been, it just hadn’t been with him. He tried not to sound hurt that he wasn’t being included in her life nearly as much as Hannibal, but it must have come through.

“I just wanted to get away for a while,” Abigail confessed. “I can’t stand being here. Dr. Lecter’s local, and his office is so nice. I just thought…” She shrugged and mumbled,”I feel safe there.” 

After listening to her, Will couldn’t help but nod and say in a tired voice, “I know.” He did. He often thought the same. “Do me a favor though and don’t go running off again, okay? Just arrange a visit next time.” 

“Yeah.” Abigail paused. “Sorry for freaking you out.” She hadn’t decided if she was sorry enough to not attempt it again later, but for now, she had regretted being so impulsive. It was weird having someone panic this much about her, but it also left her feeling undeniably _wanted_. Even her conversations with Dr. Lecter didn’t do that. He was a sympathetic shoulder for her to lean on, but he was so good at keeping his emotions to himself, whereas Will was the polar opposite. The intensity of Will’s concern frightened her sometimes, but maybe, she thought, the pair of them could balance each other out.

Will gave a strained smile in return. “It’s fine. I’m glad you’re alright.” 

Hannibal took this as his cue to walk Abigail over to the doctor waiting to get her settled back into her room. As he passed by Will, he touched his shoulder. “Wait for me here,” he said into Will’s ear. 

\----

And that was how Will Graham had ended up taking a much-needed rest on Hannibal’s couch. It was still daylight, but Hannibal had drawn the curtains to darken the room, and Will hadn’t had the energy to care. After covering him with the blanket, Hannibal left him to go to the kitchen and begin making something for him to eat when the nap was over. Will would need it, and it would be an excuse for Hannibal to keep him a while longer. 

_‘Poor Will,’_ he mused, melting butter in a saucepan, _‘Always seeking out family, and always watching them turn away.’_ Hannibal would more than make up for their absences. Their failings were his opportunity. It hadn’t been the first time Abigail had sneaked out of Port Haven to come to his office, and it wouldn’t be the last. The girl seemed to sense that something about him was similar to her own father, and Hannibal couldn’t resist encouraging her dependence. How could he, when it resulted in situations like this? He smiled to himself as he stirred flour into the butter. If Will couldn’t find a family on his own, Hannibal would make one for him.

When he finished assembling the meal, he brought it into the living room and set it on the coffee table. Will was as restless in sleep as he was awake, so when he turned again, Hannibal didn’t pay much attention. He was almost out of the room when Will sat up. Hannibal stopped where he was, mildly surprised.

“Ah, Will,” he murmured, “I have prepared a…” He trailed off at seeing the empty look on Will’s face, the way he didn’t so much as blink in his direction. His body may have been awake, but the rest of him definitely wasn’t. Hannibal approached cautiously, not knowing if his next step was going to be the one to jerk Will back into consciousness. 

Hannibal made it all the way to the couch with Will being none the wiser. He stood and waited, and soon enough, Will was standing too. The agent drifted around his living room, looking at his surroundings without really seeing them. Hannibal could only imagine how it appeared to him now. He seemed intent on exploring, opening cabinets and drawers and peering inside, and though ordinarily Hannibal would consider it an egregious invasion of his privacy, Will could be forgiven. It wasn’t just his current condition that earned him forgiveness - this was to be his home too, anything he was ready to see, Hannibal would willingly share with him. 

Considering that, Hannibal weighed his options. 

The next time Will tugged open a drawer, Hannibal was by his side, speaking lowly to him. “The charcoal belongs here.” He took Will’s limp hand and placed it on top of the pencils, making sure he touched them, felt their shape and texture. He did this with everything Will stopped in front of, and some that he didn’t. When they finished in the living room, he brought Will all over the house, repeating the lesson with every cup, every piece of sheet music, every hairbrush, until all of Hannibal’s secrets were on display. Well, almost all of them. 

Their last stop was Hannibal’s bedroom, or more specifically, the large mirror by his dresser. Hannibal stood Will in front of it and said nothing, just let him gaze at himself for a long moment. He trusted Will’s mind to arrive at the logical conclusion.

\----

It was dark when Will woke. He pushed the blanket aside and sat up. “Dr. Lecter?”

“Yes, Will?” The answer came from a few feet away. It gave Will a start, but he relaxed when he saw Hannibal sitting in an armchair, scrolling through his tablet. 

“Jesus,” Will chuckled hoarsely, “Don’t do that to me.” 

“I apologize,” Hannibal replied, dipping his head demurely, but the smile on his lips gave away his amusement. “I did not wish to wake you. Now that you’re awake, I’ll get the lights. Did you rest well?” He got up and headed for the switch. 

Truth be told, Will felt like he’d been on his feet for hours, but that was nothing new. “Mmm,” he hummed vaguely. When light flooded the room, he looked down at the coffee table. “What’s that?” 

“Croque Monsieur,” Hannibal told Will, “Or a variation of it, with raspberry jam.” He did not tell Will that it was the second one he’d prepared today, or exactly what changes he’d made to the recipe. 

“So… ham and cheese?” Will smiled at the way Hannibal nearly rolled his eyes in exasperation. “Thanks, it smells great.” He swung his legs over the side of the couch and leaned forward to eat. 

Hannibal took his spot in the armchair again, watching in silence. After Will had taken a few bites, he asked, “Do you want to talk about what happened today?” 

“I _want_ to keep eating this sandwich,” Will replied without looking up. He busied himself with picking up the small ceramic cup on the side and adding more jam.

“She asks about you,” Hannibal said abruptly. Will stilled. “Often.” 

Slowly, Will lowered the jam back to the plate. He gripped at the edge of the couch cushion with both hands. “What?” He was unsure what to say, so Hannibal continued. 

“Like you, she is perceptive, but has trouble expressing herself,” Hannibal informed him, a gentleness to his voice. “She does not know what she wants from you, or you from her. For Abigail, that uncertainty is frightening. So she comes to me. She knows who I am and why I am invested in her future. You, Will, are harder to make sense of.”

“She resents me,” Will mumbled. 

Hannibal shook his head. “No,” he corrected, “She resents what she sees of herself in you. In some ways, you are too much alike.” 

Will wasn’t sure if that helped or not. “What does she say, when she asks about me?” Hannibal could hear the anxiety in his voice, and came over to the couch to take the blanket and fold it so he had an excuse to be close to Will. 

“She asks if you are well,” he said simply, holding the fabric up, “What you are up to when you’re not visiting her, or letting Jack Crawford bully you at work.” He folded it in half twice and draped it over his arm. 

Will sent him a skeptical glance. “Were those last words hers or yours?” He watched Hannibal blink back at him innocently, then huffed, “Yeah, I figured.” He picked at the remainder of his sandwich, but his appetite was fading. “Well, I hope you made up something exciting.” 

“I didn’t have to.” He paused. “I told Abigail about your dogs.” 

“Oh great,” Will groaned, “Now she’ll think I’m like a crazy cat lady.” If she didn’t think he was nuts already, she would now.

Hannibal laughed. “You _are_ ‘like a cat lady’ when it comes to stray dogs, but arguably not crazy, and occasionally you smell better.” 

“Occasionally,” Will repeated dryly. 

“The days you forget to apply that aftershave.” 

“Oh, of course.” 

They shared a smirk. Hannibal broke eye contact first, walking away to the closet to put the blanket away and saying, “Fortunately for you, we find it endearing.” 

Will stared after him. “‘We’?” 

Hannibal acted as if he hadn’t heard. Accepting that he wouldn’t get a reply, Will got up from the couch and grabbed the plate from the coffee table. “Should I go toss the rest of this and put the dish in the sink? Sorry I couldn’t finish it.” 

“Yes, please,” Hannibal said while he rearranged things in the closet, not minding at all, “And when you’re done with that, could you bring me the iron?” 

“Sure.” Will cleaned up after himself, then walked by Hannibal to go upstairs and retrieve the iron from a basket in a room he had never been in. It’d felt so natural, he didn’t notice anything was amiss until he’d come back into the living room with it in his hand. He stared down at it, puzzled. 

“How… how did I know where this was? Did you tell me?” Will couldn’t remember hearing it, but he must have. 

“I did not.” Hannibal’s hand closed over his own, large and warm. Will looked up at him with knitted brows. “It slipped my mind. It appears you have just become familiar with this place, or perhaps with my habits.” The psychiatrist smiled and took the iron from him. “Thank you, Will.” 

“Yeah, uh... no problem.” It felt to Will like he had done it a thousand times before, like he could have found it with his eyes closed. Like he lived there. Like he belonged. As if sensing his rising urge to flee, Hannibal put the iron away and then shut the closet, giving Will his full attention. 

“I am going to pour you some wine, as I neglected to do so when I gave you your meal,” he stated, “And then I will drive you to pick up your car at Port Haven.”

Remembering that he couldn’t leave yet even if he wanted to as he had no means to do so, Will stamped down on the urge and nodded. “Alright.” Might as well stick around a little longer. "Is my phone-" 

Hannibal took it from his pocket and handed it to Will, who accepted it gratefully. As he left Will to get the wine from the pantry, he voiced his thoughts. “The Merlot glasses, I think, for tonight."

Within seconds Will found himself in front of a kitchen cabinet, taking out two glasses. It hadn’t even been a request. He stood there, catching Hannibal’s proud smile as the man approached him with a bottle of red wine, and looked down at the delicate stems being held between his fingers. “Fuck,” Will whispered.

**Author's Note:**

> Felt like writing a nice little thing with Abigail included (although only briefly)! Hope you all enjoyed it!


End file.
